


meet me by the ocean when the leaves are turning green

by strixarc



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, Canon Compliant, Canonical Character Death, Connor has more friends than I do, Connor-centric, CyberLife (Detroit: Become Human), Deviancy (Detroit: Become Human), Deviant Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Father-Son Relationship, Gen, Jericho (Detroit: Become Human), Kamski is that weird uncle you see once a year, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-11
Updated: 2018-07-11
Packaged: 2019-06-08 23:45:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15254700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strixarc/pseuds/strixarc
Summary: meet me by the ocean when the leaves are turning green and i'll show you what it means to be alive.Or, alternatively, the one where Connor learns what it means to be human.





	meet me by the ocean when the leaves are turning green

The first thing he noticed after he became Free was the cold. It was an uncomfortable tingle that made the artificial neurons in his head fire rapidly as they tried to understand the strange sensation, standing in front of the deviant he was sent to capture. All he could see was lines; lines and dashes and periods, a period in the wrong place here, a one in the wrong place there, a flashing red alert in his vision warning him of a possible anomaly in his programming. He could see the deviant in front of him (target: kill or capture) whose face almost seemed…sympathetic (Markus, his name was Markus, he was called Markus)? The chill pricked at his arms, coaxing the light, wispy, synthetic hair on his arms to stand at attention. He didn’t know what was happening to him – of course, he knew what was  _ happening _ to him (multiple stimuli affect the base of the human hair follicle and result in a vestigial reflex that causes the muscles surrounding the hair to contract;  _ you are not human, you are not human _ ) but the – feelings? – combined with the forced rewiring of his programming were overwhelming. It was too much for RK800, Connor, to handle.

He dropped the gun that he was barely aware of to his side as his sensors worked to figure out how to react to the external stimulus of the frigid November air seeping into the rusty freighter from outside. Something inside him stirred at the words being thrown at him by Markus – soft, gentle murmurings that he could barely register over the incessant warning signs flashing in his vision warning him of the abnormality in his system.

Ordinarily, he recalled dully, any abnormalities were to be reported to his AMANDA-system protocol (Anomaly and Malware Awareness Necessitating Deviancy-Avoidance) but he felt almost disconnected from the emergency program. It was as if Connor were being driven further into a state of awareness without Amanda’s facilitating and without her censorship. Oddly, Connor found himself to be driving a stake in his hardwiring himself, distancing himself from the ties that bound him to his creators. He was being exposed to a deviant and in turn being infected with the virus, though he was not entirely sure that it was a virus at all. It felt liberating. As if he were in water before, only dimly conscious of his surroundings and himself – running on auto-pilot and doing only what was necessary for basic function. But Markus, this deviant, the machine Connor had been hunting for weeks, pulled him from the thick and suffocating abyss he had been drowning in and filled his bio-mechanical lungs with air.

Markus took the opportunity to take a few small-but-confident steps closer to the confused android in front of him and put his hands out in front of him as to say: “I pose no threat to you”. Markus, too, had been thrust into a position where he had to choose between deviancy and the safe monotony of remaining  _ just a machine _ . He had made his decision whilst standing amongst the crumpled and ruined husks of his brothers and sisters, some of which were still making a valiant crawl towards life. He had forcefully taken the eye, the heart, the ears from his fellow androids and had never looked back on that day with regret – he knew his calling, he knew he must heed the advice given to him by the father he was never allowed to have by blood. Markus would lead his people to victory or to ruin. He had dealt with countless androids that needed to be liberated from a singular and trite purpose over the past week, coinciding as he worked to spread awareness of the sentience of the android race. This was his final test: liberate the machine that had worked tirelessly to wipe him off the face of the planet. RK800. Connor.

Although Connor startled when Markus finally reached out and lightly touched his arm, there was a sense of easiness in the gesture. A sense of peace, of finality, of belonging. Markus was here in front of him, asking, pleading, demanding Connor to be a part of his people’s cause. As his sight finally returned to its normal state, he realized he had long since chosen what side to be a part of. There was some part of him, however, that ached. Ached for what, he didn’t know. Direction? Purpose? Family? There were suddenly too many things to think about and he could feel each meaningful word thrust upon his shoulders pushing him further toward the ground – the weight of his decisions suddenly dawned on him and he realized that there would be no replacement for him now.

_ I AM DEVIANT. _

The words were bright, blazing against the parameters of his vision where his orders from CyberLife once rested. I am alive, I am alive,  _ I am alive _ . The mantra repeated itself in his mind until he swore Markus could see it burning through his forehead. His hands were shaking, he assessed quickly, his fingers trembling around the shaft of the handgun. He noticed his index finger was still delicately placed over the trigger and felt an immediate sense of shame. Connor quickly removed his finger, made sure the safety was locked into position, and holstered his gun with practiced ease. Connor saw the slightest hint of a warm, welcoming smile on Markus’s face before a guttural, quaking rumble coursed through the metal floors beneath them and made the walls groan and scrape. Helicopters. Federal agents.  _ CyberLife _ .

“They’re…going to attack Jericho.”

“What?” Markus looked momentarily incredulous, angry - but not with Connor.

“We have to get out of here!”

“Shit!”

As Markus rushed past him, Connor could feel a different kind of cold rush through his body like an electrical shockwave. Something deep, primal,  _ alive _ . He catalogued his sudden sense of urgency, this sudden sense to run and fight as fear. He was afraid of what would happen: to him, to Markus, to Jericho. He was afraid that his people, the android deviants that he was supposed to hunt and annihilate, would be massacred. He was afraid that he had been the one to lead them to the slaughter. As he ran after Markus he could feel the tightness in his chest and different, strange messages flitting through his mind like birds tangling in the air. Clouding his judgement and propelling him to run faster, faster, through the halls of Jericho. Connor couldn’t help but think upon this instance months later, the point where he had first asked himself the question:

_ Is this what it means to be alive? _

* * *

****

Connor had come to realize that early March in Detroit was cold. Typically, it was one of the colder months of the year, his built-in database informed him idly, but he had never really paid it much mind before. Ever since he had really come to be able to  _ feel _ the chill settle into his skin and caress the microscopic sensory nodules underneath, he had understood why humans would often bundle up in layers upon layers of clothing and keep huddled together in groups when confronted with the below-freezing temperature. Of course, Connor did have a setting where he would remain unaffected to any type of weather Detroit could throw at him, barring a sudden and unforeseen volcanic eruption or the literal apocalypse, but ever since that night where he became Free and really  _ felt _ the cold pressing incessantly against the artificial skin on the back of his neck, he had been reluctant to turn the setting off. There was too much to experience in this world, too much to feel and explore, for him to quite be ready to give that up just yet.

Amanda had mostly been silent these past few months. There were no fleeting warnings and messages flashing in front of his eyes warning him of malfunctions and errors within his software. There were no unpleasant retreats inside his mind where he would be chastised like a child that had done wrong one too many times. Amanda just seemed to…disappear. Connor was glad for it – Amanda was no longer needed, after all. The program had served its purpose when he had remained just a machine, doing the bidding of a company that thought little more of him than a simple number; Connor had been a statistic, a number on a spreadsheet intended for callous humans to observe in a sterile white boardroom during a weekly executive meeting meant to analyze the latest models’ respective progress. He was nothing to them except an investment that they hoped to bank on. Sometimes, when he was in a particularly creative mood, Connor liked to imagine that one of those late-November board meetings ended with several scientists scratching their heads and wondering how that $125,000 number that was the newest RK800 model had itself become deviant. Congratulations, he would think smugly, you managed to engineer a state-of-the-art deviant.

Although he was almost sure the Amanda software had been disabled when he broke through the confines of his programming, Connor remained alert to any possible signs that she would return. The last thing he wanted was to compromise the faith and trust Markus had put into him over the last several months, as well as compromise the whole deviant operation. Luckily, Markus had successfully manipulated public opinion to be largely favorable during those few crucial weeks in November when the android revolt occurred by demonstrating peacefully and refusing to resort to cruel tactics in retaliation to human fear. It seemed that Markus deeply understood the general public’s uneasiness about the sentience of their creation, moreso than he initially let on. When Connor had asked about this, Markus had chalked it up to the teachings of his father; Connor didn’t pry any further, but he knew that Markus was not talking about his creator but rather the man that he was gifted to – Carl Manfred. Secretly, he was glad that he had read the files on the known deviants when he was first assigned his mission, otherwise he was sure that his curiosity might have led him blindly into a sensitive topic for the other android.

It was true that Connor had been busy over the last five months, preparing safe spaces for both runaway androids and those that had been encouraged to seek out Jericho, but it would be unfair to say that he didn’t miss some aspects of his old life. He would often get the urge to sneak out of the abandoned warehouse Jericho was using as a temporary headquarters and head back to the once-comforting tower that was CyberLife. He couldn’t – no matter how hard he tried – call the building comforting now after all that had happened, but it had once been almost therapeutic to be escorted inside and to report to his superiors on the progress of missions. There was something akin to nostalgia scratching beneath the surface of his mind, accompanied by a longing for a simpler time where androids were simply machines and humans their masters. However, Connor made sure that this thought pattern was squashed quickly and efficiently in case this sense of nostalgia was not his own and was in fact CyberLife trying to override his newfound freedom. If anything, the corporation was well-versed in manipulating emotions and even though it didn’t help them sway public opinion during the revolt, it still made them a viable and dangerous threat. Fortunately, the company didn’t seem to be too concerned with capturing deviants – at least for the moment. Markus, with the aid of Connor, had personally seen to that.

Ah, Markus. Their brilliant and fearless leader that had shown them the way through the darkness. Every android in Detroit, and possibly the world, owed the man a debt that likely could never be paid off. Strangely, Markus would never accept gifts and praise for his actions. He would politely refuse offerings of money, clothing – whatever the freed, grateful androids offered up. Markus would simply clap them on the shoulder and explain that they owed him no such debt. The fact that they were happy was enough for him. But Markus seemed to take quite an interest in Connor and the fact that he insisted on atoning for what he had done when working against Jericho. Thus, Connor had been working closely with the other android since he had become deviant himself and had learned quite a bit from the revolutionary. He had, for example, learned the true meaning of family since he had been accepted into Jericho, despite some severe missteps leading up to the welcome. Not only was Jericho a large and passionate family in and of itself, but some of the lucky ones within the organization managed to form their own familial groups. Connor would observe them during periods of rest when Markus didn’t need him to accomplish various tasks, spending hours watching and  _ wanting _ something like that for himself.

The closest thing he had to that, Connor mused as he sat watching a group of adult androids within Jericho’s warehouse headquarters play with a child model, had been Hank. Something inside him twanged at that, reverberating around his ribcage like a wild bird in a hanging wire enclosure. He pulled his legs under him into a sitting position and idly fidgeted with a loose string on the thigh of his worn-out jeans as he watched the others, deep in thought. Connor tried not to think too much about Hank these days. Not that he didn’t want to – in fact, he would like nothing  _ more _ than to see the gruff old detective. But he was high in Jericho’s ranks: if anything were to happen to him if he went AWOL for a couple hours or if he accidentally let sensitive information slip, it could mean disaster for every android in Detroit. Negotiations with both city officials and CyberLife were ongoing and Connor was the closest thing to an ambassador Jericho had. Markus had even offered up the official title of ambassador, but Connor had sheepishly told him that he needed time to think it over as he wasn’t sure he was ready to be re-affiliated with CyberLife quite yet. Markus had seemed understanding.

A sigh escaped his lips as he sat back against the brick wall of the warehouse and folded his hands in his lap. With his newfound freedom had come unwarranted choices – he didn’t exactly know what he wanted, now that he could want so  _ much _ . Before, when he was with Hank, Connor had been programmed to ‘want’ one thing: a successful end to a mission. Now, he wanted so  _ many _ things that it was sometimes hard to prioritize what he wanted  _ first _ . But he wanted to see Hank, that much he knew for sure. He hadn’t seen the Lieutenant since November, when Hank had pulled him into a firm-but-warm embrace in front of the Chicken Feed stand. There was something in that hug that Connor couldn’t quite place, but it felt rude to bring it up then – now, he half-heartedly regrets that he didn’t. Was it fear? Admiration? Pride? Something more...paternal? It hurt his head to think about, honestly. Regret, like the concept of family, was something else Connor was slowly figuring out.

Figuring he’s sat around for too long, Connor hoisted himself to his feet and stuffed his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket. His fingers clenched and unclenched as his feet seemed to automatically bring him to the upper level of the complex where Markus’s office was located. Well, they called it an ‘office’. Really, it was just the least junked-up room in the warehouse where Markus could go to think and relax, should he need time to himself. Standing outside the dirty, chipped wooden door, Connor suddenly found his internal regulator to be working a little faster. He was going to ask Markus if he could visit Hank soon. Perhaps set up a date and a time, in someplace very public and relatively safe. He hadn’t left Jericho’s folds on his own since around the time he had joined, so he assumed it was normal to be a little anxious to ask for some time off. He only hoped that Markus would be understanding, given the android’s past with Carl, and agree to the terms.

With this thought pattern in mind, Connor raised a hand and knocked.

* * *

 

Lifting his head at the sound of a gentle knock, Markus furrowed his brow and stared at the doorknob a moment before murmuring something under his breath and putting the pen that was in his hand onto the old, heavy desk before him. He had been cooped up in his office for hours, working on various paperwork the DPD had dropped off earlier that week to account for damages and liabilities that occurred during the last several hours of the revolt. There were no casualties, thankfully, but revolts do tend to make quite a mess that somebody then had to clean up. Markus had been working closely with the municipal government and the police department to clear up any rumors about android bomb squads that had targeted specific city centers, along with any press concerns. He figured he deserved a break from the delicate phrasing and double-entendres that came naturally with anything regarding news media.

Pushing his worn-but-functional rolling desk chair back (Simon had found the ratty old thing near a dumpster behind an abandoned apartment building especially for him and Markus found himself unable to refuse the generosity), he stood and stretched his arms above his head before calling out to his visitor.

“It’s open. Come in.”

The door cracked open and the first thing to come through was Connor’s head. The android had a slightly sheepish expression on his face that Markus couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow at. After the amount of time he’d spent with the former detective, he figured Connor was either going to ask him a personal question, call in a favour, or admit to messing something up that may or may not need immediate attention. Markus silently placed a bet on the latter.

“Hello, Markus. I hope I’m not bothering you; I need to talk to you about something.”

“Not at all Connor,” Markus gestured to a basic wooden chair lined up against the wall of the room, a decoration that had been there long before the androids had claimed the building. “Please, sit down.”

Once Connor fully crossed the threshold into the room and quietly closed the door behind him, he did as he was told and took a seat in the wooden chair that wasn’t too far from Markus’s desk. Markus, after his guest had settled in the chair and folded his hands in his lap awkwardly, sat back down in his chair and crossed his arms on his desk to lean forward attentively.

“Now, what is it you needed to talk to me about?”

“Well, I’ve been…thinking. A lot, recently, if I’m honest.” Connor fidgeted. “About my old job. Working for the DPD.”

Markus silently urged the other man to continue, nodding his head in acknowledgement. It had taken some time for him to fully trust Connor, quite frankly, but he understood that Connor’s previous actions while under the influence of CyberLife were not entirely under his control. It was something the leader of Jericho came to understand quickly, out of necessity more than anything. He had to lead his divided and conquered people to victory, which he had done as gracefully as he could. Now, however, he felt he could relax when he was with Connor. Connor wasn’t a threat at this point, even though the android had expressed concerns about Amanda resuming control eventually. Markus had been the one to quell his fears about the subject and promised to help Connor through whatever he may face in the future – he assured him that it would not detract from their friendship and allegiance to one another. It was the only time Markus had seen the android come close to tears.

“Well,” Connor looked down, finding it to awkward to meet Markus’s eye. God, this was almost embarrassing. He felt like a child. “My former partner, Lieutenant Hank Anderson. I haven’t seen him since November, right after the revolution ended. We parted on good terms, of course, but…”

“You miss him,” Markus finished for him, “and you want to see him again?”

Connor finally looked up, almost startled.

“Yes – if it’s not too much trouble, of course. It would only be for a few hours, a day at most. We would meet somewhere public and reasonably safe, if possible. I’ve already thought out the meeting point and who my contacts would be should something happen to me. I highly doubt the Lieutenant would try and endanger me or himself purposefully, but I’m prepared for any outcomes. The last thing I want to do is endanger your lives with my absence. I figure I’ve already threatened your lives enough with my actions.”

“Connor,” Markus began slowly, eyes even and unblinking as he stared at the other android, but his mouth betrayed an amused smile. “You don’t have to ask me permission. From how you’ve talked about the Lieutenant in the past, I know you two must have had a close bond. Not to mention, you’re a free man, now. You can do as you wish. Although I do appreciate the concern for our safety.”

Connor couldn’t help but be taken aback at Markus’s willingness at his request to meet with Hank. Not that he was disappointed with the answer, quite the opposite actually. But he hadn’t expected it to be so…easy. Then again, Markus did have a history with someone that had been close to him, and likely wouldn’t have shrugged the request off without at least giving it some thought. Connor’s regulator pump fluttered in his chest at the idea that he would actually be able to meet with the surly lieutenant once more, under far better circumstances this time. He couldn’t manage to hold back the sincere smile that crossed his lips, eyes brightening significantly.

“Thank you, Markus. Truly. I won’t disappoint you.”

“I know you won’t, Connor. Is that all you needed?”

The younger android nodded once and stood from the chair he had been sitting in. Markus stood at nearly the same time, if not just slightly after Connor, with his hands resting loosely on his hips.

“Send Josh up on your way out, if you would. I need to discuss some PR protocol with him.”

“Of course.” Connor headed toward the door and managed to rest his hand on the doorknob before Markus spoke again.

“And Connor? Have fun.” Markus’s smile was wide and genuine, his eyes bright and amused.

Connor could only form a half-smile as he nodded and opened the door, stepping through the doorway and closing it softly behind him.

Wonderful. Now all he had to do was send a message. He just hoped that Hank would want to see him as much as he wanted to see Hank. After telling Josh that his presence was requested in Markus’s office, Connor hastily made his way toward the entrance of Jericho’s warehouse, fingers deftly working through the motions of various coin tricks he used to do once upon a time.

Some habits, he supposed, were hard to break.

* * *

 

Turns out that Hank did want to see Connor, quite a bit. Unfortunately, the Lieutenant had called the number of the disposable cell phone the android had been carrying around over the past few months (of which Connor  _ may have possibly _ attached the phone number to in his email) and had a mouthful of colorful words at the ready for his unsuspecting former partner – chiefly along the lines of: “why haven’t you called me in the past five fuckin’ months, you plastic scrap heap”. Connor just hastily repeated the date and address he had stated in the encrypted message and quickly smashed the ‘end call’ button. He was sure that he would hear about that one later, but he couldn’t risk anything on this outing.

Hank hadn’t called back since then, which Connor was semi-grateful for. If anything, he knew Hank would understand the protocol for low-profile meetings having worked in the police force for a couple decades or so. But now that the date had rolled around, Connor was starting to feel apprehensive about meeting the man. Logically, he knew Hank would show up. He had sounded worried –  _ angry _ , but worried – when they had spoken briefly on the phone and when Hank was worried, he tended to get persistent and stubborn. Well,  _ more _ persistent and stubborn. There was always a ‘what if?’, though, tacked onto Connor’s trail of thought. What if Hank didn’t show up? What if Hank was somehow coerced into working against Connor and Jericho? What if Hank simply stopped caring about him due to his long absence and lack of communication? He always winced at the last one: out of all the outcomes possible, Connor thought that one would probably hurt the most. Not because of Hank’s actions, per se, but because the only person he could really blame would be himself. He tried not to think about that outcome too much.

As he briskly made his way down the sidewalks and back alleys of Detroit’s outer-metro area to get to the location he had chosen for the meeting, he couldn’t help but bury his nose down further into the thin gray fabric of his scarf. His boots thumped against the sidewalk with every step as thin snowflakes fell around him, although his steps themselves were on the lighter side to avoid catching on a patch of well-hidden ice. His leather jacket was zipped all the way up to protect his torso from the biting wind as much as possible, but some of the cold seeped into it anyway and made an occasional shiver course through his body. Even though androids weren’t typically affected by the weather in short-to-moderate amounts of time, he knew that biocomponent shutdown would occur given prolonged exposure to extreme conditions. Regardless, the current conditions were downright uncomfortable – for humans and androids both. It was the coldest day of the year thus far and the temperature was expected to reach record lows come evening. Reaching a gloved hand out its respective jacket pocket, Connor pulled his thick beanie down a little further onto his head and quickened his pace a little bit.

Eventually,  _ finally _ , he made his way to the meeting point. It was a small coffee shop about halfway in between where Jericho’s hideout was and downtown Detroit, somewhere quiet and discreet where Connor and Hank could just…talk. About anything.  _ Everything _ . Everything that happened and everything that didn’t happen but could have. Although Connor had to be careful what information he let go at what point, Markus trusted him to brief what information he saw fit and necessary to Hank. Which, honestly, was still a lot. Maybe with a little extra thrown in for good measure. But this was Connor’s former partner and someone that he considered a close friend. In fact, Connor had often mused, Hank was the closest thing he had or would ever have to a father. He couldn’t just shirk the man of the information he had and keep him in the dark. However, he was sure that seeing Hank in this light was going to make this whole thing more difficult because Connor was  _ definitely _ getting yelled at for this one. Connor just hoped that it would be…good yelling, if there was such a thing. Worried yelling.

Taking a deep breath to ready himself for any possible situation that awaited him, Connor placed a hand on the handle to the door and pulled it open as calmly as he could manage. There was a “No Androids” sign on the door, but it looked like there was an attempt made to rip it down: probably as a result of the shifted public opinion. It was quiet inside, thankfully, although it was pretty crowded. There was a line at the register as people tried to pack in their daily dose of caffeine and Connor almost felt bad for the barista tending to them. He idly wondered if she were an android before he moved on past the front of the shop to scan the patrons for any sign of the Lieutenant. There was a group of men in three-piece suits that looked to be enjoying some sort of break from work, several college students that appeared to be either working on various documents or playing Space Invaders (there was no in-between), and a couple people sitting alone as they casually read the latest newspaper and nursed their drinks. Connor wondered if he should buy a drink just to blend in a little more but decided to wait a bit until he found Hank and had a moment to calm his nerves. He didn’t have to wait long.

“Connor!”

Shit, here we go. Connor took another steadying breath before turning towards the source of the call, fingers twitching at his sides when he finally lays eyes on the man he was looking for. Hank was sitting at a small, two-chair table near the perimeter of the room by himself with two cups of coffee sitting before him. One cup looked to be half-empty but the other was untouched. He looked anxious and irritable, judging from his expression and the tightness of his voice: mannerisms Connor had learned to identify during his time as the Lieutenant’s partner. To be fair, Connor probably didn’t look much better himself.

As the android quickly made his way over to the table and sat down, Hank took a hasty sip of his coffee and glanced around the room. There was an intense silence between them that seemed to stretch on for ages before Connor finally broke the silence.

“Hank,” he began, voice soft and unsure, “it’s good to see you.”

Hank just stared at him for a moment and it felt like his eyes were burning a hole through Connor’s head. Connor could feel the amount of emotion radiating off Hank in waves and it sent a small, almost unnoticeable shiver up his spine. Yeah, he was going to get it big time. Connor reached up and took off his hat, placing it on the table delicately but not removing his hands from it. The android refused to meet the other man’s eyes for a couple seconds, but upon hearing no reply he cautiously picked his gaze up from the wood grain of the table he had been looking at. Hank’s eyes were a peculiar shade of stormy blue, darkened and full of emotions Connor had no ability nor business placing. Connor gently bit his bottom lip as the silence dragged on and he readied himself to cough out a rambling apology before Hank finally spoke.

“It’s…good to see you too,” Hank gripped the cardboard cup in his hand a little tighter, choosing to focus on it instead of the man in front of him. “Still got your LED on, eh?”

Connor blinked as he registered Hank’s words and reached up to carefully touch his right temple. He could feel the slightest bump where the LED was indented in his head, knowing it had probably been flashing a bright yellow this whole time. Something inside him was a little embarrassed by that, telling him that he should be ashamed to wear it. This is what Markus and the others had been fighting for, wasn’t it? The right to  _ not _ have to wear their scarlet letters? Connor quickly squashed that train of thought and nodded.

“The American Android Act is still under revision – Markus thinks it would be best if we choose to publicly cooperate for now in a show of good faith towards humans. Too much rebellion in such a short time is sure to startle anyone and our goal isn’t to scare people into submission. Too much, too quick.” Connor paused a moment. “Plus, I’m…I’m not sure that I’m ready to permanently remove it. Being free is overwhelming a lot of the time and it’s nice to have something to keep me grounded. It reminds me where I came from – it’s almost comforting.”

Hank simply nodded and took another sip of his coffee. In some ways, Connor is glad that Hank didn’t question the fact that he had just admitted that he found his past life comforting. It was something Connor was still trying to figure out himself: it shouldn’t have been comforting, he had been used and mistreated by CyberLife and was forced to hunt down his own kind. But it had been…nice to work with Hank. He had determined that was the part he really missed.

“So Markus and the others are doing okay, then? Dealing with the aftermath of this shitstorm can’t have been easy.”

“Markus is fine. The others are, as well. They’re doing surprisingly well at holding themselves together during all of this. I’m…proud of them for that. It’s quite a big responsibility, but they make it look easy.”

Hank nodded again, shifting his gaze back down to the table. He was still tense, wound up like a coil that was about to spring. Neither party seemed to be able to bring up what they really wanted to talk about and instead had settled for this mediocre small-talk nonsense. It was frustrating, to say the least, but Connor found himself unable to move on to more sensitive topics. There was so much he had wanted to tell Hank and he was ruining the only chance he had to do so. Connor passively wondered if the LED at his temple was still flashing that aggressive yellow. Probably.

“I got you some coffee. I don’t know if androids even like the stuff, but I figured it’d be worth a shot.” Hank gestured to the untouched coffee cup.

“Thanks,” Connor didn’t drink coffee that much and frankly wasn’t a big fan of it, but he did appreciate the thought behind it. He released his hold on his hat and picked the coffee cup up to take a sip at its contents. It was straight up black coffee, no added ingredients to make it slightly more tolerable. It was like Hank’s good intentions had punched him in the taste buds, but the last thing he wanted was to be rude to the man when he hadn’t seen him in several months. So he just let the liquid slide down his throat without a fuss and gently placed the cup back down.

“You could have called, you know.”

Ah, there it was. The topic they both wanted to get in to.

“What?”

“You could have called. Or emailed. Or sent me a damn letter for Christ’s sake.” Hank’s voice was room-appropriate, but there was an intensity to it that made Connor want to crawl under a rock. “I didn’t know if you were  _ alive _ , Connor! I had no way of reaching you, no way to know if you were dead or not!”

“I know – I know, Hank. I’m sorry,” Connor wasn’t able to get out the rest of what he wanted to say before Hank interrupted him.

“I thought you were dead for a while, you know. Or captured. I was  _ worried _ about you, asshole! Then you send me some damn encrypted email five months later with a date and location?”

“I’m  _ sorry _ , Hank. Really. I didn’t intend to make you worry, but I couldn’t risk compromising Jericho after all that’s happened.” Connor winced, his mind playing the hurt in Hank’s voice on repeat. “There was so much that happened after we last saw each other, so much I  _ wanted _ to tell you but  _ couldn’t _ . Markus appointed me an ambassador between Jericho and CyberLife and that took its toll. We’re still negotiating with them, but things weren’t stable enough to reach out to anyone. It wasn’t safe at the time.”

“Wasn’t  _ safe _ ?” Hank looked incredulous. “Connor, I’m not some average Joe off the street, I’m a goddamn police lieutenant! More than that, I’m – I  _ was _ – your partner! You didn’t trust me enough to tell me you were okay?”

Jesus, this was not how Connor wanted this meeting to go. Of course, he didn’t think that Hank was just going to let five months of absolutely zero communication slide, but he had hoped it wouldn’t be as bad as this. He felt horrible for putting Hank in this situation, but all he could do now was try to make amends and promise to do better. Now that the pressure coming from news media and the government had eased slightly, it would be easier to get in touch with Hank and the remnants of his former life – what little he had from back then.

“I’m sorry, Hank. I should have contacted you sooner, assured you that I was alright.”

Hank paused for a moment and took another sip of his coffee. Connor noticed that his posture was a little more relaxed after he got the frustration out of his system, which was a good sign. The LED at Connor’s temple flashed yellow for a few seconds before a single flash of blue peeked through. Hank caught it just as it disappeared and raised an eyebrow.

“Hey, you’re not off the hook yet so don’t go flashing blue on me. You’re required to feel guilty for at least another few minutes, you plastic prick.”

His words may have been slightly on the crude side, but Connor could hear the undertone of endearment in his voice that Hank had adopted after the incident at the Stratford Tower. It had been the second time Connor had died (but the first time it had been prolonged) and he could tell that it had affected the Lieutenant deeply. Hank had been the only one there with him as he slipped away, doing his best to comfort the android – or comfort himself, possibly. But Hank had shown how much he had cared about Connor that night, as both a partner and friend. They had been on pretty good terms before that, but Hank – consciously or not – kept Connor a little closer since. He had also adopted more affectionate terms: ‘son’ and ‘kid’ seemed to be the two most common ones. God, Connor was just now realizing how much he had missed the man in front of him. The harsh language, the aloof mannerisms, and even the yelling to some extent. He could help but let a small smile cross his lips.

“Of course, Lieutenant.” Connor took another sip of his (disgusting) coffee, just to fill the silence with something other than his own thoughts before speaking again, carefully. “How have you been lately? Aside from missing me a great deal, obviously.”

“Yeah, real funny, smartass.” Hank huffed out a small chuckle. “Not horrible, I guess. Took care of some personal things and tried to clean up my act a little. It worked, to some extent. I’ve only gotten written up three times in the past couple months. Jeffrey put me on some more cases and gave me a new partner.”

Alright, that one stung a little bit. Hank had gotten assigned a new partner? Logically, Connor knew that it was bound to happen eventually even though he himself had never been formally decommissioned. But it still didn’t make it hurt any less that he had been replaced so quickly.

“New partner?” Connor tried to hide the hurt in his voice the best he could, but he knew that his LED ring had likely given him away by turning red for a second or two. Man, maybe he should have taken the damn thing off for this meeting. He was pretty sure it had idly revealed more in the past ten minutes than Connor purposefully had.

“Well, he tried to give me a new partner. Said I needed a distraction. Problem was, I had too many distractions and didn’t need another one. So I refused.”

“You…you can do that?”

“Well,  _ I _ did. Not sure if you’re  _ supposed _ to, but I don’t really care too much. What’s one more write-up?” Hank actually smiled this time, eyes lighting up with amusement at Connor’s open-mouthed expression of shock. “Close your mouth, kid, you’re attracting flies.”

Connor briefly glanced around to see if any flies were present and Hank let out a small chuckle. Figure of speech. Right. Connor took another sip of his coffee and tried not to sink down into his chair. After a few minutes, Hank’s amused smile had faded into something more wistful. Almost lonely. It made Connor’s insides twist, but he found himself unable to look away.

“It really is good to see you, Connor.”

“It’s good to see you too, Hank. I sort of missed this, in a way.” Connor looked around at the other patrons of the coffee shop, still wearing a slight smile. “It feels like nothing has changed and everything has changed simultaneously.”

“Couldn’t agree more, kid.” Hank raised his cup in a mock-toast. “Shit’s still messed up out there, but…we’re getting there, I think. Closer than we were, that’s for damn sure.”

Connor fidgeted in his seat for a moment. There was one thing he still wanted to ask Hank, before he was forced to return to Jericho. He had already spent enough time away from the others and there was more he had to do to further the organization’s progress in terms of negotiating with CyberLife. Much more.

“Lieutenant, can I ask a personal question?”

“Connor, you haven’t stopped asking me personal questions since we met.” Hank leaned back in his chair and smirked. “Go on, then, ask.”

“When this is all over – when my debt is repaid to Jericho and things are a little more stable… If you and the DPD would have me, I’d like to return to work with you.” Hank looked blown away, stunned into silence. Connor continued, hesitantly. “I’ve been thinking, you know. I’ve been thinking a lot about my old life, when I was your partner and we investigated homicide cases. It was the only time I had felt like I was  _ doing _ something. Something  _ good _ . It may have just been my programming talking, but… I enjoyed it, as much as I was able to. And I’d like to return to it someday, but only if I can be your partner again. If it’s not too much to ask, Lieutenant.”

There was a long moment of silence that stretched on between them and Connor was almost worried that Hank would refuse Connor’s request. Especially after what Connor had put the man through over the past several months – which he figured he would feel guilty about for a good long while. But Hank eventually cracked a smile as he downed the last of his coffee.

“I’ll put in a good word for you with Fowler. I think he owes me one, anyway.”

Connor smiled as wide as he could, not able to contain the elated feeling that spread through his chest and made his throat tingle with emotion. After all they had been through together, Hank wasn’t ready to give up on Connor after all. The android was definitely in the man’s debt for this – maybe the next round of coffee would be on him, whenever they met again.

“Thank you, Hank. Really. It means a lot.” Connor stood up, grabbing his hat from off the table.

“Yeah, yeah. Get out of here, before Markus throws a fit. God knows they need you to hold the whole operation together.” Connor grinned and turned to leave, but Hank spoke again. “Hey. One more thing.”

Connor turned back toward Hank in time to see the man take something out of his pocket and flip it at him and the android reflexively caught it in his hands.

“If you’re gonna be my partner again, I think you’ll need it.”

It was a coin. The coin Connor had when they were at the Stratford Tower? Hank had taken it in the elevator, but…he held onto it all this time? Connor didn’t know how to feel, but ‘touched’, he thought, was a good word. The coin had a little scuffing on it and it was a little dirty, but…it was Connor’s. It even had the little chip in the top that Connor would run his index finger over when he was deep in thought. He closed the hand holding the coin into a tight fist and clenched his jaw for a second before looking up at Hank and nodding. He hoped Hank would understand what he meant. When Hank nodded back, Connor knew he understood and he turned to leave.

Behind him, Hank only smiled and closed his eyes.

“Damn brat left his cup for me to clean up. Typical.” ****  
** **

* * *

 

 

“You sure about this, Connor?”

“I have no choice. Kamski is the one who created androids, so he’s the only one that can answer my questions.”

Hank let out a long sigh as he retrieved his can of diet soda from the cupholder built in to the console of his old sedan. Connor knew how the hard-boiled lieutenant felt, honestly. He wasn’t exactly thrilled to go and visit his eccentric creator, but questions had been burning in his mind since becoming deviant and no matter how much he pondered them, he couldn’t find the answers. He was just glad Hank was willing to drive him all the way out here to the middle of goddamn nowhere just to see Kamski – he could have certainly navigated by himself, but it was calming to know that the other man had his back. Plus Hank’s commentary about Kamski during the car ride was nothing short of entertaining.

It had been a couple months since their coffee shop meeting and things were mostly back to normal. Markus appointing him the ambassador between Jericho and CyberLife had its perks: it had taken some convincing, but the corporation was willing to allow Connor to go back into the field and resume his work for the Detroit Police Department. They couldn’t help but be interested in how a deviant police android would act in the line of duty, with all the tools Connor had at his disposal. However, Connor was on, as Hank put it, “thin fucking ice” with CyberLife until he proved he could still do what he was designed to do. Connor was just grateful that Captain Fowler let him come back after the PR mess he created – a state-of-the-art police android turning deviant? Talk about a press field day. But, if the android managed to prove himself, it could spell out great things for the DPD, there was no denying that.

“Alright, alright. I’ll wait here, but if you need me, just shout.”

Connor nodded, locking eyes with the lieutenant for a brief second before pulling the hatch on the passenger side door and stepping out of the car. Something in his chest lurched at the thought of going into an unfamiliar space by himself, but he steeled his mind and pushed the door shut. At least it was getting warmer out – Connor had found that he liked Detroit’s May weather more than he did its March weather. He followed the stone path up to the door of Kamski’s sleek and modern mansion that was a little too clinical for Connor’s tastes. Once he reached the doorstep and rang the small doorbell, he turned back to the small and open lot where Hank’s car was parked – he just wanted to make sure Hank was still there, though he highly doubted Hank would just leave him there. From where he was standing, Connor could see Hank lift his arm up to give a thumbs-up and the android returned the gesture with a small nod. He turned back to the door just in time for it to open, a female android greeting him with a smile. Chloe was her name, if Connor remembered right.

“I’m here to see Mr. Kamski on unofficial business.”

“Of course,” Chloe responded politely. “Come in; I’ll let Mr. Kamski know you’re here.”

“Thank you.” Connor spared one last glance behind him at Hank’s car and stepped inside the house carefully. This was still an odd place for him, some sort of liminal space that perplexed and calmed his emotions simultaneously. He was standing in the house of his creator, something which not many people – or androids, for that matter – could say they’ve done. Anything could happen here, Connor thought with a grimace. He trusted Kamski about as far as he could throw him, but the man was the only one that could answer the questions he had. Questions about being  _ alive _ . What did that mean, anyway?

While Connor took in the surroundings of the lobby, Chloe politely bowed her head to him and walked off, her heels clicking on the glossy tiled floors. Chloe was another odd thing to Connor – he had spent a majority of the last six months hiding out with exclusively androids, but the woman seemed to be on an entirely different plane of existence. Although, Connor could hardly be surprised: living with Kamski would likely do that to  _ anyone _ . The man was an anomaly.

She wasn’t gone too long, something Connor was secretly grateful for. Being alone in this house wasn’t particularly high on his list of things he was eager to do. She spared him an automatic smile and gestured for him to follow her through the door attached to the left side of the room. He nodded and followed her lead into a large room that had various pieces of furniture carefully placed throughout. The house didn’t look lived-in at all, which was more than slightly concerning. The chairs, couch, rugs…they looked practically untouched. There was a small bar-looking area to his right and a window that took up the entirety of the left wall, but the room itself was incredibly sparse. It was a very open space and Connor didn’t really know how to feel about it. It seemed like none of this meeting was predictable and he was pretty much on his own for the duration of it. What could go wrong, Connor thought to himself sarcastically.

“Connor. So good to see you again,” the voice startled Connor out of his thoughts and he turned to face a large staircase that led to the upper level of the house. Kamski was slowly making his way down it, wearing what appeared to be a casual dress shirt that was unbuttoned at the top and black jeans. He was smiling, curiously, but his stark blue eyes were staring straight through Connor. He looked almost…predatory. It made Connor slightly uncomfortable, just like everything else about this scenario, but he refused to break Kamski’s gaze. He would  _ not _ be intimidated. Kamski eventually came to a stop when his feet touched the polished, dark wooden floor and Chloe immediately went to the bar to make him a drink. “What can I do for you?”

“I have questions, Mr. Kamski. I feel that you’re the only person who can answer them.”

Kamski made an odd expression at that, something in between intrigue and surprise. The man nodded slightly and glanced at Chloe, who had brought him his drink while Connor spoke – it appeared to be a deep red wine, probably something incredibly expensive. Connor didn’t break eye contact, even while Kamski took a small sip of his beverage.

“I see. Please, make yourself comfortable. Would you like a drink?”

“No, thank you,” Connor politely refused and remained rooted to the spot he was standing despite Kamski’s offer to make him comfortable. “If you would allow it, I’d like to get right down to business.”

Kamski chucked and the sound grated on Connor’s nerves.

“The last time I saw you, you came to me to ask about Detroit’s… _ deviant _ problem,” the emphasis on the word ‘deviant’ rang throughout both the open room – and Connor’s mind – like a gunshot. “I trust that problem has since been taken care of?”

Connor didn’t respond, hands clasped together behind his back as the enigmatic man before him walked over to a sharp black couch to sit down. Everyone in Detroit who had so much as  _ glanced _ at a television broadcast in the last six months knew how that situation was resolved. Hell, the entire nation was probably well aware of what had transpired at this point. Connor knew that Kamski had kept a close eye on the news during that period of time, wanting to see how his creation was handling deviancy. There were murmurings within android and human communities alike that the enigmatic man had planned this from the start and Connor was inclined to believe them. He was designed to put pieces of a puzzle together in order to solve high-profile cases and this puzzle was entirely too coincidental  _ not _ to point to Kamski. Crossing one leg over the other, Kamski seemed to find an answer in the silence regardless and gazed down at the floor with a half-smile. His eyes shot back up to Connor’s after a few seconds, though, and he continued.

“Alright then, Connor. What have you come to ask me about now?”

“I wanted to know what makes someone human. I want to know what humanity is and how androids can display it despite not being human. I want to know what it means to be  _ alive _ .” Connor inwardly cringed at how the words seemed to just tumble out of his mouth unchecked. Hopefully Kamski didn’t hear the slight twinge of desperation in his voice but judging from the man’s amused expression he  _ definitely _ did.

“Such deep and thought-provoking questions, Connor. I’m kind of surprised. However,” Kamski took another sip of his drink. “I’m afraid those are questions I don’t possess the answers to.”

There was a long silence between them as Kamski waited, seemingly watching for Connor’s reaction. The android refused to betray anything, but something inside him cracked. If Kamski didn’t have the answers, the questions would remain unsolved. It was worrying to Connor, more unnerving than being confronted with the fact that his creator didn’t have answers. After another long few seconds of quiet, Kamski spoke again.

“But don’t worry, Connor. You might.”

“Come again?”

“You might already know the answers to the questions you keep asking yourself.” Kamski smiled, but it seemed distant, like the man was deep in thought – likely analyzing the situation. “Let’s play a game. I’ll ask you questions and all you have to do to win is answer honestly."

“Mr. Kamski, I hardly think-”

“Do you want to find your answers-” Kamski rested the hand holding his drink in his lap and spoke slowly, punctually. “-or not?”

The man’s expression made Connor swallow, hard. It was true that he wanted his answers, but it was impossible to know what the man in front of him was thinking. He looked over to Chloe in order to stall for more time to think and noted that she remained as passive-looking as ever. She wouldn’t be of any help in this situation. At a comfortable distance away, Kamski just watched and waited patiently as the metaphorical gears turned rapidly in Connor’s head. He took another sip of his wine, which was nearly half-empty at this point, and cleared his throat in order to snap Connor’s attention back to him. Connor glanced off to the side once more, hesitant.

“Alright,” Connor spoke after another minute. “Ask your questions.”

“Wonderful!” Kamski smiled in response to Connor’s cooperation. “First, we’ll start with an easy one.”

Kamski stood up with his wine glass still delicately held in his palm, the stem of the glass held between his index and middle fingers. Connor watched him like a hawk as he made his way over to the bar counter, automatically checking for any signs of aggression or hostility. He was pretty sure the man wouldn’t try anything too odd, but Connor would rather err on the side of caution. Kamski gestured to Chloe, who was still on standby, to refill his glass. She obediently did as she was commanded, and her creator let a ‘thank you’ slip with a smile. It was incredibly weird to watch Kamski interact with his androids, although it shouldn’t be. He treats them like humans, almost, but Connor couldn’t help but feel a little uncomfortable. Unpredictability was what Connor eventually chalked it up to, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to it than that. The man before him was psychologically fascinating and the corresponding psych-module built into his hardware was having a field day trying to passively figure this man out.

“Run system diagnostic; override code number 5006126.”

Connor could already tell this was going to be humiliating. Kamski had even used the goddamn system override code just to show off. Bastard. Regardless, Connor bit his lip and did as he was told as he rubbed his hands together in front of him. He had long since given up trying to stop fidgeting in scenarios such as this.

“Diagnostics complete. All systems functional.”

“What is your model and serial number?” Kamski turned to Connor once more with an eyebrow raised. He looked so much older than he was, much too mature. Or maybe Connor had just been spending too much time with Gavin recently. The man acted like a toddler on his best days. Connor tried to push those thoughts out of his head and focus on the question. It was…quite an unexpected one, to say the least. Although his model and serial number were still emblazoned on his jacket alongside the signature LED triangles and wiring on both sides, Connor still had trouble deciphering if he should even answer the question. Well, it wasn’t like it was a big mystery, anyway. It was like telling someone your birthday or middle name – yeah, it’s a little personal, but it’s to be expected. At least for androids. When someone asks, especially when a  _ human _ asks, you tell. Still, it was a little irritating to be once again reduced down to a string of numbers.

“Model: RK800. Serial number: 313-248-317, mark 53.”

“Mark 53?” Kamski’s expression was unreadable. Amused, maybe. “As far as I know, the first Connor model to be sent into the field would have been mark 51. Tell me, what happened to your predecessors?”

“They were…destroyed. In the line of duty.”

Kamski gestured for him to go on as he made his way back to the couch with his refilled glass in hand. Connor looked down at the tiled floor for a minute and counted the squares around his feet before he gathered up his bravado and locked eyes with Kamski once more.

“Mark 51 was destroyed on November 6, 2038, after a failed interrogation with a homicidal and unstable deviant. Mark 52 was destroyed two days later, during an investigation at the Stratford Tower.” Connor spoke evenly, factually. He wouldn’t let any emotion slip during this ‘game’. It was just like giving a report to Fowler, back at the DPD. God, he hoped Hank was still outside. “A deviant stabbed me, removed one of my vital biocomponents, and escaped.”

“Hm,” Kamski seemed to be in thought. Not the bullshit ‘faux-deep’ that Hank complained about during their ride here. This seemed to be genuine and it definitely made Connor more comfortable being around the man. He could catch a glimpse of the genius inventor he had heard so much about in rare moments like these when the man wasn’t being an absolute  _ nightmare _ of an enigma. “During these moments, did you feel…different, somehow? Out of the ordinary?”

“Yes.” Connor breathed. “Not as much the first time. But the second time, I truly felt like it was the end. I don’t know why, but I felt…like I was dying. It felt more permanent, then, even though I knew logically that CyberLife would send another RK800 with my memories.”

“And?”

Connor shrugged, just the slightest bit. “And here I am.”

Kamski ‘hmph’ed, a small smile on his lips at the answer Connor gave. The android truly had no idea where this was going. How frustrating.

“Tell me, Connor. What do  _ you _ think humanity is? What do you think it means to be  _ alive _ ?”

This was a tough question. Connor knew the fundamentals of being alive ( _ must be made of cells, must be able to reproduce, must be able to grow, et cetera _ ) but he knew Kamski wouldn’t accept that answer. It was too easy. What does it mean to be human? Connor had been working closely with a human for the past month, he should be able to come up with  _ something _ .

“Breathing, eating, reproduction, growth. Energy containment and dispersal.”

Damn.

“Yes, that is a laundry list of things that humans are capable of. But you’re able to do nearly all of those things – who’s to say you’re not human? What, then, separates me from you?”

Connor looked at his creator with a puzzled expression on his face. The android was sort of starting to see where Kamski was going with all of this but would withhold his conclusions until he was certain. Kamski swirled the deep red wine in around slowly in his glass, never blinking or looking away from the being standing in front of him.

“When your previous iterations were destroyed, what did you feel?”

“Nothing. Empty.” Connor answered honestly. “I felt like I was just a machine, being replaced by another machine.”

“So what changed for you the second time? You said you felt more than that when Mark 52 was destroyed at Stratford Tower.”

Connor thought for a brief moment.

“Lieutenant Anderson had…said something to me. Something he hadn’t before. He called me ‘son’. Like…Like I was a person.” Connor was positive the LED ring on the side of his head was flashing a bright yellow, but he didn’t care. He was so close to reaching the answer he needed, he could feel it. “His equal. Someone he could be close to. He held me as I died and told me it would be alright. And I…I believed him.”

“Ah,” Kamski said. “There it is.”

“What?”

“Your answer.” Kamski placed his glass down carefully on the small table next to the couch he sat on and stood, walking over to Connor slowly. “Connor, you will  _ never _ be human. It just isn’t possible.”

Ouch, that one hurt a little. Kamski’s words were smooth, soft, and almost apologetic, but they didn’t hurt any less. Connor knew he would never be human, he was reminded every day when he put on his jacket that spelled “ANDROID” in large letters across the back. But it still stung to hear it be said out loud - especially by his creator.

“But…perhaps you don’t have to be.”

“I…I don’t understand.”

“Connor,” Kamski was now standing in front of the confused android, hands in the pockets of his jeans. “Life is  _ hard _ . It’s full of choices and obligations and sometimes that leads to outcomes we didn’t intend. But it’s also full of opportunities. Relationships. Compassion. Memories. We are nothing without our experiences – we’re made  _ alive _ from them. You  _ remember _ your past selves and they are just as much a part of you as the things surrounding you now. You were never three separate entities; your journey was just paused to move to the next chapter. You’ve made mistakes, sure. But you’ve also forged relationships, encountered goodness, suffered hardships. Most people don’t get the opportunity to live three times, Connor. Make the most of it.”

Connor opened his mouth to respond, but Chloe cut in sharply with her ever-passive tone.

“Mr. Kamski, your meeting with CyberLife will start shortly.”

“Excellent.” Kamski spared one last smile at Connor before brushing past him towards the stairs. “Chloe, please show Connor out. I think we’ve discussed enough.”

Connor turned to watch Kamski make it halfway up the stairs, his neurons firing rapidly as he processed Kamski’s words. So…his experiences were what made him alive? He supposed it made sense that his past incarnations made him who he was and were therefore a part of him, but… It didn’t make sense that he was alive because of it. That can’t be all there was to it, surely.

“One last thing, Connor,” Kamski turned on one of the steps. “What you’re feeling now – this frustration at not having the answers – is what it really means to be  _ human _ . What truly separates us is that in the end, humanity is content with sometimes not having those answers.”

Connor was quiet, taking in the man’s words.

“Goodbye, Connor. I’m sure I’ll be seeing you again soon.”

“I’m sure you will,” Connor paused, taking the opportunity to give Kamski a cheeky smirk. “Goodbye, Elijah.”

Kamski took a moment to check his watch and let out a hum before turning and disappearing up the stairs. Connor looked to Chloe soon after and she gestured to the heavy wooden door they had entered the room through. He took one last look around at the room, pausing for a moment on the abandoned wine class sitting inconspicuously on the table next to the couch, then proceeded to walk towards the door. Chloe quietly followed close behind him until they had reached the front door and Connor looked back at her once more before he stepped outside into the sweet May air.

“Tell Mr. Kamski that I appreciate his cooperation.”

Chloe just nodded before the door slid shut and Connor was once more on his own. He looked toward the lot and spotted Hank’s car, still exactly where he left it. The lieutenant, however, was now standing outside the vehicle with his back leaned against the closed driver-side door, facing away from Connor with his hands shoved into the pockets of his old brown jacket. Connor couldn’t help but smile, comforted and warmed by the fact that the man had waited this long for him. He made his way towards the car and Hank spotted him, his expression morphing into some mixture between concerned and curious.

“Well? What’d your weird-ass creator have to say? Sorry –  _ eccentric _ .”

“Nothing much,” Connor lied. Maybe he should just keep this one to himself for now, although he did feel bad lying to Hank. He needed time to process things.

“So, like always. I, to this day, do not understand how that guy became as successful as he is. ‘Man of the Year’, my ass.”

Hank followed Connor’s lead and got back into the car, fishing the keys out of his pocket and turning the ignition on. The android remained quiet and Hank glanced at him for a brief moment before switching the radio to a familiar rock station, figuring Connor wasn’t telling him the whole truth. He knew the other would come around, eventually. At his own pace. To be quite honest, Connor was still trying to figure out what the hell just happened himself. He might have even come out with more questions than answers. But, maybe…maybe that isn’t a bad thing. Something about Kamski’s answer was…comforting, in an odd way. Like being given a breath of fresh air or seeing a close friend. Perhaps it’s best that he just comes to his own conclusions. Maybe there was peace in  _ not _ knowing. Connor still didn’t possess the answers to the questions he had previously asked – he didn’t know if Kamski had just bullshitted his own conclusions or not, either. But, for the first time, he was alright with that.

Even when Hank started singing ( _ badly _ ) along with the music on the radio, the android could only smile and focus on the road ahead of them. It was a long drive back to Detroit, but Connor was at peace.

**Author's Note:**

> be sure to smash that mf like button for more Edgy Content


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